


I'm Sorry I Stepped on Your Foot

by INTPSlytherin_reylove97



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst and Humor, Artist Ben, Author Knows Nothing About Monarchy, BANTER IS COMING SOON, Ben Loves His Grandma and Padme Would Move the Mountains For Her Grandson, Ben is a Prince, But Also Neither did Shondra Rhimes or Gary Marshal, Expect ALL THE BANTER, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Leia has passed away; no one kill me, Past Leia Organa/Han Solo, Past Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Poe thinks Han is Hot--Who Can Blame Him, Princess Diaries AU, Rey is Chris Pine's Character in the PD2, Rey is Royalty??? Or Maybe she is just a Nobody, Rey wants to steal the throne, Rose and Ben BFFs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-08-09 20:19:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16456565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INTPSlytherin_reylove97/pseuds/INTPSlytherin_reylove97
Summary: At the age of fifteen, Ben Solo's life had been completed altered by some startling news: he was to be the Crowned Prince of Naboo, next in line to rule the beloved principality. Only problem? Ben under no circumstances wants to be a prince, let alone for a country he never even knew existed. Being invisible was easier than being a prince.~After pushing away his duties for over ten years, Ben has finally decided to take the throne per his grandmother's request. After all, she did not want to let all her hard work go to waste. Unfortunetly, Ben's uncle has found a 'long lost' distant (extremely distant) cousin, threatening Ben's succession to the throne. A speedy engagement to the most eleigable royal is now a foot.However, Ben's new 'cousin' Rey Jacarous seems just as determined to take the throne as Ben is to abandon it.A Princess Diaries Inspired AU





	1. Prologue: 'Shut Up' Means Something Different Here

**Author's Note:**

> Hello dear readers!
> 
> Yes, it's me with another fic. Another WIP, but I could not help myself with this one!
> 
> Typos will be fixed later!
> 
> Enjoy :D

**_September 15 th 2018_ **

“Your Highness, we will be landing in Naboo shortly,” Kenobi announced to Ben as he made his way back to his seat from the pilot’s quarters.

Exhaling, Ben nodded, slouching further into his seat. Leaning over, he glanced out the window, seeing lush green and calming lakes of the secluded kingdom of Naboo. His home away from home. His permanent home from this day forward.

Being Crowned Prince of a tiny principality between Italy and France had its perks and downfalls. Perks—visiting the lovely kingdom during the summers and winters, spending time with his grandmother. Not to mention he was able to use his title as an extracurricular when applying to colleges—

_“Why weren’t you involved in more extra curriculars?”_

_“Oh you know leaning how to be a prince after school Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays takes up time. But I was the president of the art club on campus.”_

Downfalls—actually having to _take the throne_ on his twenty-ninth birthday.

His grandmother claimed he’d do a phenomenal job every time his concerns popped up.

In response, Ben smiled and nodded while having a crippling panic attack on the inside. He already pushed off the throne for as long as possible, his grandmother allowing him to finish school and spend sometime doing what he actually loved— _art_.

However Ben knew his grandmother deserved her rest. Ruling alone for so long without a husband and fighting against sexism and prejudice early in her reign after Grandfather Anakin’s death, Padme Amidala deserved the best retirement royalty had to offer. Taking the throne for his grandmother was a privilege and an honor Ben wanted to accept for her sake.

That did not mean he did not have his reservations on the matter.

Hoping to ease his nerves, he turned to Kenobi. The older man sat on the other side of the aisle crossing off another word on his crossword puzzle, appearing engrossed in thought.

“Yes, your highness?”

The bodyguard also had a knack for knowing when exactly Ben was looking at him. A Kenobi Sixth Sense as Ben liked to call it.

“Kenboi—Grandma is not having a parade at my arrival right?” He asked, absentmindedly digging his fingers into the armrest. “Because I just want it to be us, no trumpets or throwing rice—”

“I highly doubt anyone would throw rice at you,” Kenobi monotoned, “Rice is usually reserved for weddings and the parliament outlawed the throwing of rice at your grandmother’s request because it was a waste of valuable resources.”

“Right…” Ben commented. Leave it to his grandmother to make sure a law, and the parliament to follow. Everyone on the parliament loved her and sang praises of her work; Ben wasn’t too sure how he was to follow such an act.

Maybe his grandmother could stay on the throne longer if he promised to remain in the country?

“No,” Kenobi spoke up again, “She does not plan to have a ‘parade’ as you put. Amilyn will be there with the car and the itinerary for the day.”

“Ahh,” Ben hummed, “That’s—that’s good.”

“The Queen is an understanding woman, Prince Ben. She knows you are not fond of pomp and circumstance,” Kenobi reminded him, not once lifting his gaze from his crossword puzzle. “…disappointment,” he commented with a shake of his head.

“ _What_?” Ben asked, eyes wide.

“That’s was the last word on the puzzle—disappointment,” Kenobi shrugged, tucking the little travel sized book into his coat pocket. “Best we buckle up before landing.”

Ben nodded, patting the cage beside him. His dog, Kylo, looked up with indifference.

“Thanks for the surge of confidence buddy,” he mumbled to his furry companion.

 

* * *

 

**_September 25, 2005_ **

The garden was beautiful, objectively speaking. Shrubs lined the walls and delicate flora was trimmed and flourished. Elegant and tasteful, though Ben had never been one for the outdoors, he found the areas peaceful. He had no idea such a house or garden resided in the heart of Chandrila.

When his dad told Ben he’d been invited to see his grandmother, Padme, he thought it was a joke. Grandma Padme _never_ visited, even when his mother still lived with them in the city. Ben hardly remembered what the woman looked like, needing to dig up some photos from the basement before they were reunited.

He only found _two_.

One of his mother and Grandma Padme, and another of his grandmother holding him as a baby. Needless to say, Ben felt under prepared in every sense of the word.

Unfortunately, he was correct on his assumption. Awkward did not even begin to describe their reunion. When he first arrived, he walked across the grass to the front door. Three steps into his trek, a loud booming recording ordered him to _step off the grass_ in various languages.

Upon entering the house, Ben was afraid to walk too close to anything, every item screaming _priceless_ and _irreplaceable_. His lanky body barely listened to him, his backpack hitting a classical era-esq statute’s hand— _effectively breaking it off._

In a flourish of panic, Ben stuffed the broken off marble hand into his backpack before anyone noticed.

Once meeting his grandmother, affections were _not_ exchanged and they were led to the garden for afternoon tea.

Ben didn’t ever realize there were such a thing as ‘tea times’ until the man who drove him there—Kenobi—informed him in passing. The teen made a mental note to ask Kenobi for a European cheat-sheet of the tea times and meals, the man seemed to know his way around his grandmother and took the time to explain things with unmeasurable patience.

He was unable to help but observe the woman he heard so little about while they waited for the staff to pour their tea. Padme Amidala was a short woman, Ben towering over her, even while slouching. The air and respect around his grandmother contradicted her size, Ben taking whatever confidence he had inside himself to not cower in her presence. Intricate braids adorned her head, the grey and brown of her hair knotted and tied together in an delicate array.  

She looked like his mother—or rather his mother looked like her, Ben feeling displacement lodge in his chest the longer he compared the women.

Picking up a lump of sugar with the little spoon, Ben dumped the substance into the porcelain tea cup. He stirred the sugar with the brownish liquid, he then tapped out the water droplets on the edge of the cup.

Grandma Padme’s eyebrows winced, however her pleasant smile remained intact.

An uncomfortable flop of his stomach caused him to shift in his seat; her expression reminded Ben of his mother. He tried not to think too much about her.

“Benjamin,” Padme began.

“‘Ben’s cool,” he interjected. The only time he’d ever been referred to by ‘Benjamin’ was on the first days of school, Ben immediately correcting his teachers and instructors before they finished uttering the second syllable.

“Benjamin,” she repeated, ignoring his suggestion, “Have you ever heard of Ani-Leia Sola Naberrie Skywalker Amidala?”

He blinked, barely catching the last name in the long list, “Uh, no.”

“She was the Crowned Princess of Naboo,” Padme continued, speaking in a soft, slow, and direct tone.

“ _Okay_ ,” Ben dragged out, “What about her?”

“Ani-Leia Sola Naberrie Skywalker Amidala was your mother,” she said, her eyes locking with his in earnest.

Ben snorted, “Uh, yeah right,” he picked up his tea cup, taking a large sip, “Sure, my mother was the Princess of Naboo—you’re joking.”

Padme’s lips pursed, she setting down her tea, “Why would I joke about something like that?”

“No, no, no,” Ben shook his head, putting his cup down, “Because if she was really a princess, that would mean I’m—” He waved to himself, another snort leaving him.

“ _Exactly_ ,” Padme stressed with a firm nod. “You are not just Benjamin Solo—you are Benjamin Lucas Skywalker Solo Amidala, Prince of Naboo,” she smiled gracefully, pride in every.

His jaw dropped, his eyes blown wide behind his glasses. “I’m—I’m a _prince_?” he exclaimed, cringing as the word flew of his tongue. “Shut up.”

“I beg your pardon,” Grandma Padme gapped at him, her tea held aloft in her hand nearly spilling. “‘Shut up’?”

One of aids, came running to the rescue, Mr. Threepio, “Your majesty, ‘ _shut up’_ does not always mean what it might appear in America. I can mean ‘wow,’ ‘my god,’ ‘geewhiz,’ ‘golly-wally,’—”

“Yes, yes, , I understand. Thank you,” Padme waved him away, turning back to Ben. “Nevertheless, you are the Prince of Naboo and I am Queen Padme Amidala.”

“No, no—I cannot be a prince!” Ben huffed in panic. Leaning forward, forearms braced against the table, he asked, “Why on Earth would you pick _me_ as your prince?”

“Since your mother died, you are naturally the next heir of Naboo.” Padme explained with little hesitation, speaking her honest truth. “Benjamin, you are of bloodline and my heir as my son does not have a child and is second in line to the throne after you.” Her smile turned stern as she peered over to Ben, holding herself as the royal she truly came to be. “You will rule.”

“ _Rule_?” Ben repeated after her like a broken record. Rubbing viciously at his face, he muttered, “No, no, no you have got the wrong guy,” he dropped his hands back down on his lap, clenching and unclenching his fists. “I—I don’t lead _anything_ —I’m, I’m not a leader. I can’t even lead group projects at school, I could not even lead a group of kindergarteners during art time this summer—Queen Padme, my expectation in life is to be _invisible_ ,” Ben breathed, pushing up his glasses, “and I am exceptional at it.”

Feeling the weight of the news and his unbridled panic, Ben slouched over in his seat, arms crossed over his abdomen.

“Benjamin, I had my expectations as well at your age, and I never expected matters to go the way they are now—but you will become a Prince, as you are the heir to the Naboo throne,” she stated with marvelous confidence, a hand holding her heart. “We can make you a Prince in no time, make you the Prince that you truly are. I can teach you everything you need to know—languages, art, history, political science. Etiquette; walking, talking, sitting, standing,” his grandmother prattled off, caught in her own lists and wonders of how to make him into her perfect heir. All the talk of change, learning, and essentially _pretending_ caused Ben’s insides to coil. “I can teach you how to even dress and act like a Prince,” Queen Padme declared enthusiastically, “I think in time you find Naboo a wonderful place to live. It is—”

“ _L—live in Naboo_?” Ben stuttered, head popped up from his downturned slump. His messy hair flew into his face, he hastily brushing it away from his eyes. “Whoa, lets-lets just stop, like really truly stop for a moment!” He found himself shouting, his grandmother snapping her mouth shut at his frenzied order. “I’m no prince—I am still waiting for normal body parts to show up!” Everyone in the garden became appalled at his lude implications, but Ben did not care at this point. His teen life was flashing violently before his eyes. “My voice still cracks! Do you want a prince who’s voice is still on the cusp of becoming a man?” He shook his head, hands held up flailing in the air. “I’m not moving or ruling some country I never even heard of—and you know what else? _I refuse to be a prince_!”

Standing up, Ben picked his backpack up off the ground and dashed out of the garden.

“Benjamin! Benjamin come back!”

He ignored his grandmother’s calls, scurrying through the maze of the ginormous house.

No way was he ever going to be a freaking prince. No way in hell.


	2. Together, Like Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? An update so soon?
> 
> Yeah, because this fic is far more lighthearted than my other stuff and is therefore quicker to write :D
> 
> Typos will be fixed later!
> 
> Enjoy!

**_September 15, 2018_ **

“What’s this I hear about a ‘Welcome Celebration’? I told you I didn’t want anything major,” Ben chided, as he stepped into the grand, high ceiling ballroom.

In the center of the room, his grandmother stood watching the royal staff scurry around with large bouquets and fabric. As always, Grandma Padme appeared flawless, not a strand from her intricately twisted hair out of place. Her tasteful toffee colored pencil skirt and jacket held an air of elegant regality, and her erect posture radiated respect from everyone in the room, even without a crown jewel in sight.

“I did not go to the airport; count that as a blessing Benjamin,” Padme warned as she turned to her grandson. Ben nodded, seeing her point; if the Queen of Naboo went to the airport to see her grandson arrive, photographers and reporters would not be far to follow. She’d been granting him a last few days of relative peace before his imminent crowing in three weeks. “And see this more as a birthday and welcome party, after all, we will not be celebrating on your actual birthday as you have a coronation.”

Internally wincing at the reminder, Ben smiled down at his grandmother. “That you are correct, Grandma.”

“As I always am,” she declared as fact, before holding her arms open. Without any more prompting Ben hugged his grandmother fiercely. Her thin arms held with just as much strength, if not more, her stern and tender love in the simple gesture. After a moment, Ben pulled away with a shaky breath. Comfortingly, she squeezed his arms. “It is wonderful to see you. It has been too long, Ben.”

“Same, Grandma,” he said as he released her from his grip. “But you really don’t have to do this.”

“Nonsense,” she waved off, “I will take every birthday I can with you—I missed too many.”

While her head remained held high, her heart was weighed down with guilt. In the last fourteen years, Padme tried her best to make up for lost time, initially spoiling Ben—which unfortunately had the opposite effect she desired. Luckily, Han had been around to help the Queen understand her troubled and closed off grandson a little better. Over time her tactics and gifts became modest, however certain occasions called for more flare and flourish.

Such as birthdays.

“Your Majesty.” Amilyn entered the ballroom in a hurry, her ever pleasant clipboard in hand. “The guests are set to arrive in a five hours, it’d be best if we move our conversations to the living quarters.”

“Yes, yes. I am aware of the time Ms. Holdo.” Padme smiled politely to her assistant, Ben offering his arm to her on instinct. Grasping Ben’s elbow, he began to lead her out of the ballroom and towards the stairs to the upstairs living quarters, where his and his grandmother’s apartments were located.

“Which dignitaries are invited, if I may ask, seeing as it is my birthday party,” Ben asked as he and Padme took each of the steps slowly. He tried not to notice how gradual and painstaking her movements became in his absence. Four months since his last visit; a lot could happen in four months, and the ungraceful jab of age was no exception.

“Oh, the members of the parliament. Chewbacca and Maz are quiet excited to see you,” she said, ending with a chuckle. Ben shook his head fondly at the mention of the couple; they’d been the first to agree with his appointment as heir despite initial misgivings across the board. “Diplomats and royalty from Alderaan, Dagobah, Corellia for the most part as they are our closest allies and friends. Your Uncle is even here, with your cousin.”

Reaching the landing, Ben’s feet stuttered to a pause.

He squinted down at his grandmother, “ _Cousin_?”

The mention of Uncle Luke was enough to cause a red flare of panic in Ben, but a _cousin_?

“I thought Uncle Luke did not have children,” he said, leaning his head lower to prevent anyone except from Amilyn and his grandmother from listening. “You kind of hinted he’s gay—”

“My goodness Ben,” Padme scoffed, “She is not your birth cousin or second as a matter of fact. She comes from the Palpatine line—extremely distant cousins, who we do not share any blood relation to, but must unfortunately honor with the title ‘Cousin’ or they’d have a hissy fit.” Subtly, she rolled her eyes, picking their walk back up. “I thought we were rid of them ages ago after Sidious’ death, but clearly his line lives on.”

“Oh,” Ben mumbled, turning left into the long corridor. Glancing around the area, with only Amilyn following a few feet away, he dropped his voice lower. “But why is she with Uncle Luke?”

Squeezing the crease of his elbow, Padme released a deep sigh. “The poor girl was orphaned years ago and it wasn’t until her teens did Luke find her and taker her under his charge.”

“Why am I barely knowing about this now?” Ben stared, astonished by the news. “Shouldn’t I have known about a cousin—”

“No, because it would only cause unnecessary worry. I don’t need you to worry about hypothetical matters,” she replied sternly, leaving little room for argument. “On that note, I need you to promise me to not get too close to them; nothing beyond pleasantries.”

“Saying that doesn’t make me feel better,” Ben told her, coming to a stop at her door.

“Promise me Ben?” She stared up at him, her warm brown eyes becoming firm with demand.

Nodding once, Ben answered, “Yes. I promise grandmother.”

All tension and worry fell from her being, she patting his forearm lightly. Glancing to her right, she frowned before turning back to Ben with a gleam of mischief.

Ben rose an eyebrow, not entirely conformable knowing his grandmother was up to something.

“Why are we standing at my door? We need to stop at yours first, my first birthday present to you is set in your room.” Opening his mouth to object, Padme waved a hand to the direction of his room. “No, no, no. You will got get your present; it has been waiting there long enough.”

Refraining a sigh, Ben listened to his grandmother and traveled back to opposite direction to his room. His apartments were located on the opposite wing, and were conveniently closer to both the library and kitchen. Perfect for a studious and reclusive man such as himself. Long portraits of Naboo’s ancient scenic views lined the walls, each passing frame welcoming him closer to home.

Upon reaching his room, Padme stepped aside and let him open the door.

With a puzzled frown, Ben hesitantly opened the door, stepping into foyer. His suitcase was tucked into the corner, where one of the staff members put it at Kenobi’s request. The blue and gray room seemed to remain the same as it always had been, maybe a new side table and updated entertainment center were now in the room. Beyond those additions, nothing looked like a gift—especially a gift of his grandmother’s caliber—in the main room.

“I would check the closet,” Padme called from behind Ben, only a few steps behind. “I had something shipped here to make you feel a little at home.”

Noting his grandmother’s odd phrasing, Ben went to the walk in closet. Unable to put his finger on what exactly Padme may have brought him, he decided to bite the bullet.

What he did not expect was a man to practically fling himself at him the moment the door cracked open. A frightful yelp escaped Ben as he stumbled back, his arms awkwardly catching his childhood best friends weight. _Ridiculous dead weight_. A sharp cackle and boisterous laughter followed, Poe grinning excitedly at him.

“See? Even after a three months, I can still do a trust jump!”

Rolling his eyes, Ben unceremoniously dropped Poe on to the floor. The other man caught himself before hitting the ground, using Ben as leverage to stand up. Patting his shoulders rhythmically, Poe then shook him, Ben swaying a bit like a ragdoll. He’d learned early on, when it came to an excited Poe it was best to go through the motions rather than fight off the exuberant man.

“Dude, you are going to be a king in a few weeks!”

“I know, I know,” Ben nodded, waving a bit to room, “And I thought you said you wouldn’t be able to get here until the day before the coronation?”

Poe turned to Padme, rushing up to hug the woman. She accepted the affection gracefully, always fond of Poe.

“That would be due to your wonderful grandmother; we concocted a little lie to make this surprise,” Poe said before turning to Ben, “Which by the way I might visit you more often now that I know you have that _giant closet_!” he then ran back into said room, Ben and Padme following after him, sharing looks of amusement. “You basically wear the same thing every day—you don’t need a walk-in-closet. Your best friend on the other hand—” He waved to himself, dressed nicely as though he just came back from court. A suit, tie, handkerchief—all color coordinated well. “Needs a walk-in-closet.”

Poe’s insistent chatter continued as he checked out the rest of the room, gasping and ‘ooing’ at the different antiques and items in the room. While Poe and Ben had been friends from kindergarten into their adult lives, the latter had never been able to visit Naboo due to law school and then work. The two kept in contact, living in the same city for most of their lives. Though over the last few months Ben took a freelance job at a science and arts exhibit on the East Coast, hired to paint several murals for a recent revamping. A last hurrah of sorts.

“You do realize,” Ben stated as he walked over to his grandmother, “You might never get him to leave if he sees everything Naboo has to offer—even if it is the walk in closet.”

Lifting her gaze from Poe, she glanced up at Ben. “My boy, how do you know that wasn’t exactly my intention?” she teased with a edge of sincerity.

“Wait—were are the crowns! _I want to see the crowns_!”

Huffing a snort, Ben went overt to his best friend, Padme watching the two with tired eyes.

 

* * *

 

Most of the hundreds of guests in the ballroom busied themselves with dancing and schmoozing. The grandeur of room made disappearing a little easier, becoming invisible to the plain eye an attribute Ben never quite grew out of. However nothing seemed to be working, his wallflower routine disrupted by the whispering news of his impending coronation and fact he was indeed _single_. After one too many offers from sultry women and pompous ladies, he need to find a way out.

Scuttling away from the prying eyes of both the younger and older women in the room, Ben ducked behind the dessert table. Effectively hidden by the towering cake, he released a sigh of relief. Everyone seemed to steer clear of the confectionary table, knowing the dessert was to be reserved until later in the evening.

Peeking over the table and around the room, Ben noticed no one in sight. No one to force him into polite conversation or scold him for not joining the dancing.

After all, he’s the _Crowned Prince._

He heard enough of that phrase for one night.

Plucking a macron from the back of it’s arranged display, Ben popped the entire treat into his mouth. Chewing, he watched as other dignitaries greeted his grandmother in the furthest corner of the ballroom, while the parliament had gathered in another, joking and laughing. Everything was grand and alive. Everything was cold and formal.

He felt a strange lurch in his stomach at the gravity of the situation.

This was going to be his _life_.

 _Forever_.

He shoved another macron in his mouth. Then gagged a little at the taste, not entirely prepared for the lavender flavor.

“Dessert isn’t until after eight,” a British lit voice said from behind him. Ben froze mid-way eating another macron; damn, he’d been caught. “But I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

A smaller hand came out of his peripheral vision, picking up a chocolate macron. Letting his eyes trail from hand to arm, Ben felt the wind knocked out of him at the sight of the girl’s genuine smile. The subtle muted emerald of her gown brought out a speckled glow in her hazel eyes, Ben finding himself unable to tear his gaze away.

Apparently she felt it too, ducking her head down as a flush danced furiously across her freckled nose and cheeks.

Feeling his eyes, she smiled again. “Hi,” she said with a little wave, before munching down on her macron.

“Hi,” Ben said, gulping down any frantic panic he began to feel. “I’m Ben.”

Her face scrunched up as she chuckled, slapping a hand across her mouth to muffle the noise. The two glanced around; all the other party goers seemed interested in anything but them, not even a watchful eye cast in their direction.

“I’m kind of aware; I am at your party,” she reminded him teasingly.

“Right, right,” Ben hummed, “My _party_ —where I don’t know the majority of the guests.” He shrugged a little helplessly. “Like how I don’t know _you_.”

“Is that your roundabout way of asking who I am?” She raised an eyebrow, a coy smirk playing on her lips.

“Yes,” he answered honestly, “Mostly because you are the first person to not greet me like I am royalty.”

“But you are royalty,” she stated bluntly, staring up at him with intrigue. “You have a crown on your head to prove it.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t talk like a normal human being,” Ben countered lightly, his lips quirking into a small grin. The first honest to god smile he gave the entire evening.

“How about a dance, and I’ll tell you my name?” She offered after a moment of thought, “You are obviously avoiding the dance floor, but as an eligible prince—soon to be king—you can’t afford to _not_ dance.”

Pressing his lips together, Ben considered her proposal.

It didn’t help her hazel eyes pierced through him, Ben feeling vulnerable under her steady, knowing gaze.

He came to his answer relatively quickly, “Fine we can dance, but I can’t make any promises I won’t step on your foot.”

Politely, he offered his arm.

Her enticing smile shined back at him, her hand placed delicately over his.

 

* * *

 

**_September 27, 2005_ **

The doorbell rang once, then twice, then a third time that morning.

At the table, the two Solo men looked at each other confused, neither moving to answer the door. Hardly anyone came over to their house in the mornings, let alone on a week day. After an impromptu staring contest over who’d open the door, Han flicked condensation from his glass at Ben’s face, causing the boy to blink.

“That’s cheating!”

“Go answer the door,” Han said with a smirk.

Grumbling under his breath, Ben stood up and shuffled to the front door. Undoing the first couple of locks, he then swung the door open—

Queen Padme of Naboo stood primly on his stoop, her driver-bodyguard right over her shoulder with his ever present sunglasses.

Eyes wide, Ben slammed the door on their face before either could get in a word.

“Hey, son who— _Ben_!” Han called out as his son dashed past him and down the hall, not bothering to stop.

Taking two steps at a time, Ben made it upstairs in record time. Carelessly he wretched open the door at the end of the hall and pulled down the dangling cord. Slowly the attic trap door lowered, a ladder unfolding along with it.

As he began to climb the ladder, he heard the front door open again from downstairs. Hastily he went up the last steps, and reeled back in the trap door. Ben tucked into a corner and plopped on his bean bag, air releasing from his sudden drop of weight. The attic was safe and normal—where he could hide from the rest of the world to read and paint. The skylight provided perfect natural lighting and he could play his music loud enough to not bother his dad downstairs.

The attic was wonderful and no one else would be allowed in if Ben had anything else to do with.

Maybe if he hid there long enough, Queen Padme would leave…

Not a minute later a knock sounded from the trap door.

Tensely crawling over the trap door, he lowered it, watching with dread as it unfolded out to reveal his intruder. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, he was met with his father’s disapproving frown. His dad didn’t climb up the ladder, instead opting to have the conversation from his level.

“Kid,” his dad said, disappointment and understanding shining in his eyes. “I didn’t raise you to hide from family, _especially_ your elders.”

“Is she _really_ our family is she we’ve never really met her?” Ben mumbled, laying in his stomach, head dangling down to speak.

“She’s your mother’s mother—yes, she is family whether you like it or not,” Han stressed, hands on his hips as he stared back up at Ben. “I need you come back down, say ‘hello’ and talk to her.”

His face scrunched sourly, ducking his head into his arms petulantly. “Dad—did she tell you _why_ I ran—do you know _why_ I don’t want to speak with her?”

Han remained silent.

Peaking up from his arms, Ben saw his dad’s sullen, guilty expression. His furrowed eyebrows and locking jaw were enough to tell him exactly what his dad knew.

Han _did_ know.

And he never said anything.

“I have an idea,” his dad finally said. “I didn’t think it would happen—but here we are,” he said resolutely. “Now, son, please come down so we can figure this out.”

Han held his hand out to him.

“Together?” Ben asked quietly, eyeing the hand warily.

His dad chuckled, nodding good naturedly in agreement. “ _Together_ , like always. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but that doesn’t mean we act disrespectful.”

Considering for a moment, Ben huffed through his nose. While he didn’t want to see Queen Padme, Ben also didn’t want to make his dad upset. What his dad thought mattered more than the panic and anger Ben felt at the moment.

Sitting up, he began to climb back down the stairs, taking his dad’s hand to steady his trek.

He could do this.

 _He could do this_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE MET REY! :D
> 
>  
> 
> AND HAN IS AN AWESOME DAD!


	3. Please, Keep That Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! WOOO!
> 
> Also, author is not great with and lacks knowledge on nobility and royal lines soooo....SUSPENSION OF DISBELEIF!
> 
> Typos will be fixed later :D
> 
> Enjoy!

**_September 15, 2018_ **

The moment the two reached the dance floor, another delicate arm pulled him away.

And the hazel eyed girl _allowed_ him be taken away, with a gleeful smirk and wave. Dazed, he watched her flitter in and out of the crowds before disappearing amongst the dazzling gowns and suits.

Politely, he smiled at the young woman before him. She was one of the numerous Ladies from Takodana, as the nobility there was large family, almost every single eligible daughter and cousin had been invited. She danced stiltedly and sharply with him, unfortunately leading him instead of he leading her.

“You are a fabulous dancer, Your Highness,” she complimented.

“Um, I would give myself that high of a compliment,” Ben chuckled awkwardly.

She then forced him into dip, Ben practically loosing his balance at the roughhousing.

From upside down, he saw the hazel eyed girl again.

She raised an eyebrow, entirely _amused_ by his predicament.

He decided he liked her amused face.

Once pulled up right, Ben bowed and thanked the woman for the dance before walking briskly toward Hazel Eyes.

“Why, hello there Your Highness,” another noble woman, Lady Bazine smiled devilishly up at him, effectively cutting off his path to Hazel Eyes. “I have been waiting for you to join the dance floor all night.”

Ben cringed, schooling his features a moment too late. He knew of Lady Bazine, knew too much of her from the gossip. Daughter of a famous dignitary who’s mother happened to be a former actress. She was troublesome but to high profile to refuse a dance.

“Hello Lady Bazine,” Ben politely bowed. “As always a _delight_ ,” his voice dripped with sarcasm she never seemed to be able to pick up.

A full chuckle sounded from his left, Ben catching sight of Hazel Eyes as she passed by to say hello to another. He inwardly cursed when he saw it was Prince Armitage Hux of Arkanis; a fellow prince from one of Naboo’s allies, also in line for his own throne.

Lady Bazine cleared her throat, catching Ben’s attention once more. “It is rude to not pay attention to another’s dance partner.” She up turned her nose once she saw who he was gazing at as she took his arms and forced him into an extremely _un_ -reciprocal waltz. “I don’t know why Duke Skywalker brought her, she’s from a dead line. There is little business for her here unless she plans to court.” She then attempted a sultry grin at him, “And we both know you have no interest in nobodies.”

Opening his mouth to argue, a dear friend decided to make her presence known.

“Ben!” Princess Rose Tico of Canto cheered, coming over to the awkward pair, and effectively saving Ben from further humiliation. “I haven’t seen you in forever buddy, we must catch up—now.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him away from Lady Bazine, while smiling gently at the other woman. “Hello Lady Bazine, I’ve heard the weather is lovely in Arkanis—you should definitely go back, _soon_.”

Ben and Rose quickly bowed to Lady Bazine, she responding with her own half-hearted bow and sneer before strutting off to her next unfortunate victim.

“Thank you,” Ben exhaled, “I was about to lose my cool there.”

Rose snorted, as the two walked over to the edge of the dance floor. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I saved you. Though I have to give you kudos for hiding away for so long—that woman has been on the prowl since they announced your presence.”

Disgusted, Ben shivered at the notion.

“Also, the girl you’ve had heart eyes for all night is Lady Rey Jacaous of Jakku, or if you want to get more technical, Countess Rachel Palpatine Jacaous of Naboo—”

“What?” Ben gaped, eye widening a fraction at the implication. “As in—”

“As in kind of sort of, _not really_ , your cousin?” Rose teased, her eyes glimmering with mirth. “ _Yes_.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Prince Benjamin!” One of the elderly noble women passing by gasped.

He shrugged sheepishly, but did not apologize, instead turning back to Rose. “What else do you know?”

The woman though for a moment, before her eyes lighting up, “She came here along with Duke Skywalker, your uncle, and brought along her friend, Finn,” she said the unknown man’s name dreamily. “He’s _really_ nice.”

“Are they attached?” Ben found himself asking desperately.

Rose perked up, glancing around to where the mentioned man talked enthusiastically to Poe. “No. Apparently Lady Rey is not interested in anyone, after all she barely turned of age a couple of months ago.”

He nearly choked on air, “She’s _nineteen_?”

A few curious glances were sent their way, Rose pinching the daylights out of his arm.

“ _Yes_ , but clearly mature for her age,” she said in the girl’s defense. They continued their walk around the ballroom, smiling and waving politely at others. “She is also the sole living heir to the Palpatine line, the very same line that has claim to your throne.”

That’s when it clicked for Ben, both his grandmother and Bazine’s words converging. “That’s why Bazine said she is from a dead line. I thought all the Palpatine’s were gone.”

“So did the rest of the world,” Rose muttered, “But she is alive, well, and _of age_ , so Queen Padme had to do the right thing and give her the rightful title of Countess on her nineteenth birthday.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me this?” Ben breathed, suddenly needing to know where exactly the lines separated in their two families, and how exactly this girl—very beautiful hazel eyed girl—can take his family’s throne.

Apologetically, Rose squeezed his arm. “Well, first of all, I am pretty sure it was meant to be hush-hush, but you know nobility, the biggest gossips on the planet. Plus, Queen Padme probably didn’t want you to worry—”

His brain zeroed in on the history portion of Naboo is grandmother hammered in during his prince lessons all those years ago. “Weren’t the Palpatine’s the family reigning over Naboo before my grandmother? Because Palpatine’s sole heir abdicated—”

“Uh, yes,” Rose answered hesitantly, swinging in front of Ben. “This is why no one wanted to tell you because then you’d freak out. Not to mention you were M.I.A. for so long. I’m sorry, Ben,” she rushed out, squeezing her hands together through her pristine white gloves.

He gulped, trying his best to calm his breathing. “I’m great—I-I’m _fine_.”

No, no. He was absolutely _not fine_ and he needed to find a way out of this ballroom because it was suddenly feeling terribly small. Turning around, he began to make his way to the nearest exit—

Only to bump right into the Hazel Eyes herself.

And step on her foot.

“Oh, damn foot,” he muttered, shrinking away, “I didn’t hurt you—of course, I hurt you—”

“You are absolutely fine, Your Highness,” she assured him, standing tall. “Maybe as an apology we can finally cash in that dance.”

His gaze fell upon hers, his stuttering falling dead. “I thought the dance was for you to tell me your name?” He accused lightly, playful even, despite knowing this girl potentially threatened his throne.

“It can be both—killing two birds with one stone,” she shrugged a little, appearing far more casual and younger than the gown and delicately arranged hair made her out to be.

“I’m going to—” Rose gestured vaguely behind her, “ _Somewhere_. I am going somewhere that is not here.” She declared before running off, presumably to Finn, the man she was so dazed and smitten about.

Once again, Ben held his hand out to the girl with a slight bow, she responding with as much grace. Carefully he placed one hand on her waist and the held hers in his other hand aloft. Silently he Ben hoped his hand wasn’t as clammy as he thought it to be, thankfully all the women wore gloves. They eased into a simple waltz, Ben actually leading a dance for once and she allowing him.

“I’m Ben by the way,” he spoke up, once they found a nice balanced rhythm. Remember his manners amongst nobility were slightly different, he corrected himself. “I mean technically Prince Benjamin, but I like to be called just Ben.”

She smiled nicely up at him, “Nice to meet you, Ben.”

“And you are…?”

“Rey,” she stated simply, gazing up at him. “I like to be called Rey, similar to how you like to be call ‘just Ben’,” her lips twitched, “See, now you know me,” she commented, cheekily reminding him of their previous conversation.

“I’m happy to see my foolishness has hindered your dancing,” Ben complimented somewhat smoothly. His father would be proud of such a remark. However, Ben was still his anxious self and could not help but apologize again. “I’m sorry I stepped on your foot.”

Rey chuckled delightfully, “I would say ‘you can step on my foot any time’, but I prefer to be by your side than in your way.”

Both caught the implications of her words.

“Oh,” Ben breathed, feeling his heart race as she gazed at him through her eyelashes. He then smirked, not wanting to be one upped, “By the way, you must be some sort of evil for allowing me to get dragged away from our original dance.”

“I very well could not make myself out as a monster to all those other women,” she said, an air of tease in her tone. “All pinning and waiting for you, what heathen would I be to let them not dance with you first?”

“An understandably selfish one,” Ben quipped back.

She snorted into a laugh, rocking slightly on her heels. She tensed, but did not feel her feet slip. Thankfully, she did not fall, as Ben kept her easily balanced, his hand spanning the width of the small of her back.

“Now, I can’t let the people know I am selfish, Ben,” she tutted. “That would be ill of me.”

“What if _I’m_ the selfish one, and I wanted to dance with you and _only_ you?” he asked quietly, loud enough to barely pass in the space between them.

Her breath stuttered for a moment, before determination set in her eyes.

After a moment of hesitance, her teasing grin fell away, leaving only a fierce girl in its wake. “Well, then we are two selfish fools.”

“Maybe I like that,” Ben murmured.

Their waltz slowed considerably as their steps became subconscious sways. If he leaned his head ever so slightly their forehead would connect, Ben becoming lightheaded in her presence. Their gazes connected once more, allowing himself to become intoxicated with those hazel eyes once more…

A tap on his shoulder awoke him from his romantic musings.

“Prince Benjamin, Queen Padme requests your presence,” Kenobi informed him tersely. He then turned to Rey, “My apologizes for interrupting, Countess Rachel.”

She swallowed harshly at her title, her jaw setting before an understanding smile graced her lips. “No apologies need, Mr. Kenobi.”

Unwinding himself from Rey’s grasp, Ben regretfully bowed to the girl, she responding with her own bow.

Kenobi immediately led Ben away from the dance floor and to the corner where his grandmother, her heralds, and her assistant Amilyn resided. He could feel Rey’s eyes on him as he left, Ben glancing back at her as he walked away. From a distances her hazel glow dimmed, her jaw remaining set as she walked in the opposite direction.

The sight of his grandmother was not a welcoming one if her stressed, forced smile were anything to go by. He hadn’t had one of those directed at him since he was a teenager. A part of him wanted to cower away, but the ever fiery defiant side of him told Ben to stand his ground.

He held his head up high as his grandmother spoke, her smile firmly intact, “Benjamin, you and I will be having a long discussion at breakfast tomorrow about your little _waltz_ with the Countess.”

“It was merely, as you said a _waltz_ , Grandmother,” Ben answered smoothly.

“I know a waltz when I see one and that was not any ordinary _waltz_ , Benjamin,” she replied diplomatically, stressing ever so slightly on the phrase. So much for having the discussion at breakfast tomorrow.

“I believe a waltz is a waltz and you may be seeing things, Grandmother,” he insisted heatedly, noticing the heralds glancing warily at each other from the corner of his eye.

“A _waltz_ is not just a waltz, if it so happened to be like the very _waltz_ I witness not moments ago,” she argued back, attempting her best to maintain her coolness. “Do we need to also have a discussion on what is appropriate, Benjamin?”

“I am sure my waltz with the Countess was appropriate—”

Padme scoffed, all happy pretenses gone. “The waltz was the furthest thing from appropriate—”

“I simply waltzed with a woman—”

“Not just _any_ woman, Benjamin,” Padme hissed lowly. Her eyes wandered from side to side before motioning him closer, and holding out her hand. He took it, knowing she wanted to go for a walk on the terrace. “My Grandson will be taking me for a walk,” she announced to her entourage, “I ask only Kenobi follow as my head of security.”

The other’s nodded with mutters of ‘Yes, your Highness.’

Listening to her orders, Ben led his grandmother out to a small terrace to the right of the ballroom. Kenobi remained only three feet behind, watching out for listening ears or intruders. The cool September air was a startling difference to the full ballroom, Ben able to fully breath for once that night.

“I do not want you around that girl,” she declared once they were a safe distance away.

“Because she is a threat to the throne?” Ben asked bluntly, Padme’s grip tightening. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Because she is not a threat unless we make her one,” his grandmother said sternly. “She has nothing going for her to take the throne besides her title, a title that needed to be reinstated when she came of age. Her family has been dead for ages,” she sighed wearily. “I am expressing _caution_ Ben—it is better to stay away than be involved.”

“Involved?” Ben huffed a forced laugh, not quiet believing himself, “It was a _dance_ , Grandma.”

She patted his hand gently before squeezing, her eyes pitiful as they rested upon him.

“Oh my boy, I may be old, but I know the look of man struck with awe for a woman—your father looked the same way whenever he laid his eyes on Leia.” She pressed her lips together, speaking of her daughter still bringing pain after all these years. “Don’t repeat history, Ben. Be better and don’t get involved with that girl if you know what is best for you, and what is best for this kingdom.” She looked up at him, Ben feeling like a child under her stare. “You promised me you wouldn’t get too close to them. Please, keep that promise.”

He swallowed tightly, then answered, “Of course, Grandmother.”

“Good,” she surmised, “I have a meeting with the parliament tomorrow to discuss your coronation. They need to finalize some details, but I will let you know about the happenings of the meeting during lunch.”

“Alright,” Ben said, not finding it in himself to argue.

What his Grandmother said was final…but that did not stop him from gazing longingly at Rey from across the ballroom for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

**_September 28, 2005_ **

Ben stared at the town car, arms crossed.

He was going to be late to school, and he was never late.

Poe will probably think he was sick, or worse _died_. _Ben not going to homeroom—must be the apocalypse or The Twilight Zone._

No, Poe would probably think he died _first_ before logically thinking—‘Oh Ben is probably sick even though I am pretty sure he never gets sick.’

God, what was Poe going to think about this new development? He’d probably like it, even insisted he get knighted or something.

Wait a minute, _could he knight people_? Because anyone could be knighted right? There was all these British actors who were knighted; it must be possible. Unless it was different protocol for Naboo. That was going to be the first thing he asked when he saw his grandmother that afternoon.

However, he needed to get to school _first_ …

“I can’t go to school in that,” he declared after a long moment of silence, “Everyone at school will know something is up immediately at the sight of this shiny thing.”

Kenobi remained stoic, emotionless with his sunglasses. Ben was pretty sure he didn’t know what color the bodyguard’s eyes were, and they had interacted solidly for a week.

“Your grandmother insisted,” Kenobi informed the boy, holding the backseat door open. “As part of the princely lessons.”

“I don’t think you understand, Kenobi,” Ben began, his hands on his hips as he stared at the entire car. “High school has a food chain—there are the populars, the jocks, the cool nerds, the nerdy-nerds, the choir and band geeks, the drama kids, the plain-old weirdos, computer geeks— then there is _me_.”

“And you are?” Kenobi asked, humoring him.

“Bottom of the food chain,” Ben said lowly, “I am the first pickings for being picked on and I really don’t need this Prince of Naboo stuff to further lower my status.”

“How is that possible when you are already at the bottom of this apparent food chain?”

“It’s called a figure of speech,” he groaned into his hands pathetically. “Main point Kenobi—Little Artsy-Fartsy Ben Solo can’t show up to school in _that_.” He pointed to the car. “Or he’d never leave the basement restrooms.”

Considering the boy’s protests, Kenobi glanced at his watch then back up at Ben.

“How about we do this,” the older man said catching his attention. “I drop you off two blocks away, and you can walk the rest of the way to school without anyone seeing the car.”

Glancing down at his own digital watch, Ben sighed. He was going to be really late if he didn’t go _now_.

“Okay,” he groaned, climbing into the car.

The ride was relatively uneventful, Ben grumbling to himself the entire drive. Once Kenobi reach his newly designed spot, he told Ben he’d meet him there after school to pick him up.

Luckily, Ben had been able to make it to homeroom with a minute to spar, but not without Poe sending him a concerned glance. He shrugged back to his friend, hoping the matter would drop.

He’d have to tell him about being a Prince… _eventually_.

 

* * *

 

“Turn around,” Queen Padme instructed him, her assistant, Amilyn making down notes Padme muttered to her.

Ben spun around—

“No, no, no Benjamin, _slowly_ ,” she order, Ben trying his best to follow.

He stumbled over his foot—twice.

“He has a very nice…neck,” Amilyn decided, writing down the note.

“Doesn’t he,” Queen Padme remarked, liftin his chin higher. “If only he didn’t _slouch_ ,” she dropped her hand, tutting, “All that height—wasted.”

“I’m kind of usually taller than everyone in the room—I often slouch,” Ben explained dryly, “It happens.”

“Princes don’t slouch,” Queen Padme declared evenly, scrutinizing him once more. He eyes fell on his shoes; black, paint splatter Converse. He wore them all the time, working on art projects both in and out of class. “Order him some nice, well-tailored trousers and dress shoes—”

Ben huffed. “I own dress shoes—”

The Queen ignored him, her gaze narrowing on his shaggy, untrimmed hair. “We’ll need to contact Lando for the hair—”

“What’s wrong with my hair?”

Everyone in the room remained silent at the outcry.

“I will contact him immediately,” Amilyn finally spoke up, “He will probably be able to squeeze us in within the next week.”

“Perfect,” the Queen smiled primly, motioning Ben forward. “Come along now Benjamin, we need to work on your walk.”

“It’s ‘Ben,’” he protested weakly, only to have his words fall on deaf ears. He shuffled along to the lounge area where the Queen waited for him.

“Now, a Prince does not walk with a slouch, but with his head held high and his back erect,” she waved to Kenobi, he coming to stand beside Ben. “While Kenobi is no nobility, he is a Knight and Head of Security. Not to mention is posture is superb,” she smiled thankfully at the man.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Kenobi said with a slight smile.

Ben’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. He had never, _not once_ , seen Kenobi crack any kind of emotion while knowing him. Yet with the Queen he _smiled_.

Well, it was more of a twitch of the lips—but a smile nonetheless!

Kenobi then walked first, the perfect example of posture and balance.

Then Ben followed, nearly tripping on air.

“Back straight, Benjamin,” Padme stated with firm warmth. “Think _lighter_.”

Trying what Queen Padme suggested, Ben thought lighter thoughts and pushed his chest out.

The Queen, Amilyn, and Kenobi cringed.

“We’ll try again,” Padme forced a smile, Ben begrudgingly walking for her again.

It wasn’t until walking back and forth at least half a dozen times did his shoulders stop bunching to his ears and he took normal length strides. Not perfect, but progress was progress.

 

* * *

 

**_September 30, 2005_ **

****“Dude, you are never free anymore,” Poe grumbled in art class later that week. “You’re always running off right after class and we never meet in the mornings. Do you know how lame it is skate board down the hill by myself? Ten times kind of lame.”

Ben dipped his brush in the green toned acrylics, focusing on the willow tree he was painting. His tongue stuck out to the side as he swiped another detailed stroke.

He leaned back from his work, before glancing back at his perturbed friend, “I’ve been taking care of some family things.”

“Family things?” Poe blinked back dumbly, “I thought it was just you and hot dad.”

“Don’t call my dad ‘hot’—it’s weird. No one should call anyone’s dad’s ‘hot’, especially their best friends,” Ben said pleadingly.

Poe smirked, adding more sponging to his canvas. “I only speak the truth. Lies are for the meek. Do I look meek to you?”

Ben sure did feel meek after _that_ comment.

“It’s my mom’s side of the family,” he explained quietly, being honest instead of avoiding the questions and pesters. “My grandma is in town for a couple of months and wants to spend time with me.”

“Well that’s cool and a bummer—a bummer for me, unless it’s a bummer for you, then it is just a complete bummer,” his friend said with a shrug, smearing excess paint on his finger to his smock. He noticed Ben’s downtrodden face. “Dude, she can’t _terrible_. She’s your mom’s mom—and Leia was badass. Like she could shoot me and I’d take like a man badass because I wouldn’t want to look like a noddle in front of her.”

“Everyone was noodles to her Poe, you weren’t any different,” Ben said between chuckles. “I don’t know…recently I’ve been missing her more.”

Patting his shoulder, Poe smiled comfortingly at Ben. “It’s okay to miss her, that’s kind of how it is sometimes. I still miss my dad even though he’s been long gone since I was five. You just don’t completely get over that stuff.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ben sighed, getting up to clean his brushes. “Sometimes I wish we just talked more—about _important things_.”

 

* * *

 

“Today, we learn to waltz,” Queen Padme declared as they entered the ballroom. “However, I have a conference call I could not reschedule and must pass the duties to Amilyn,” she gestured to her assistant, “I hope you don’t mind, Benjamin.”

Ben waved to Amilyn, who waved pleasantly back. She was nice, and called him Ben, not Your Highness or prince, or worse, _Benjamin_.

“I guess not,” he shrugged, not entirely thrilled to learn how to dance.

“Don’t worry Ben,” Amilyn smiled at him as she came forward, “It is a very simple version and you will get it in no time,” she assured him.

Hesitantly he agreed, letting Amilyn led him to the middle of the floor.

.

.

.

.

From the doorway Queen Padme and Kenobi stood silently, watching as Amilyn first taught Ben the steps before introducing music.

She groaned quietly when he accidently stepped on Amilyn’s foot.

“I worry for him, Kenobi. He’s so young and unaware—”

“He’s also only fifteen,” Kenobi reminded her lightly, “In high school, and ‘waiting for normal body parts to show up’ as he so eloquently put.”

“I was fourteen and already ruling a country,” Queen Padme stated simply. “He has it easy.”

“You ruled by circumstance, he still has time. Not to mention he was never told of his status, it’s culture shock at its finest,” he said patiently, feeling for the boy. He was the one who saw him the most, taking him to and from places, answering any questions he was too afraid to ask Queen Padme. Kenobi understood the boy, and hoped to maybe help in the ways he could.

“I have the oddest feeling he despises me,” she said quietly.

Kenobi did not hold back on his response, “Well of course he does,” she gapped indignantly at him, however he continued, “You are the woman who took away his mother.”

“I did not kill his mother,” Padme exhaled harshly, “I did not kill my daughter.”

Kenobi’s eyes downcast in understanding, “I am aware, but it was her flight back from Naboo that took her life. In an adolescent’s eyes that is blame enough. Not to mention she was constantly flying back and forth between the two countries, he rarely saw her towards her last days.”

Only years of friendship and companionship stopped Queen Padme from scolding Kenobi for speaking brashly on the subject. He was being honest and spoke as her confidant, her highest respect for him outranking all else.

She inhaled deeply, composing herself. “Then what do you propose I do?”

“Start calling him ‘Ben’ and maybe ask about his interests,” Kenobi answered simply, knowing how many times the boy protested at his full name only to be ignored. “Most teenagers just like to be heard and listened to, to know they are not alone. Ben’s one of them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we know who Rey is and little more about her...but she is still a little bit of a mystery ;)
> 
> And Ben, poor Ben in both the past and the present. He just struggles doing the the Prince thing *shrugs* 
> 
> Let me know what you think! Comments and kudos are always appreciated; I love discussing the fic with readers! :D


	4. Kingly Troubles and Princely Duties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile! But here we are!
> 
> Typos will be fixed later!
> 
> Enjoy :D

**_September 16, 2018_ **

 

“You should really try one of Estelle’s omelets.” Poe hummed as he cut another piece. “She tells you what you want before you even want it—I want to marry a person like that.”

Beside him, Ben nodded absentmindedly, stirring his oatmeal halfheartedly. “I know—I have lived here before.”

Raising his eyebrows, his friend picked up his coffee and drank the warm drink with a knowing look. “Hey, dude, you’ve look constipated since your grandma left for her meeting—”

“I might not be able to be king,” Ben blurted out, finally looking up from his breakfast. “Someone else is in line for the throne, not before me of course but…they might have enough leverage to take it right from under me.”

His conversation with his grandmother bothered him all night, Ben hardly sleeping with the anxiety gripping him listlessly.

Lips quirking left then right, he shrugged. “That’s… _unfortunate_.”

Head snapping to Poe, Ben frowned tightly at him. “I just told you the future of my family’s legacy is undetermined and all you have to say is ‘ _that’s unfortunate’_?”

Picking up a piece of ham, the other man stared back sympathetically. “What else am I supposed to say? There isn’t a manual on how to be a best friend to the Prince and Future-King of Naboo.”

Ben did not have the heart to argue against him. Instead he pushed his food away, and stood up from the table.

“I can’t sit here and—and not know what is happening. I need to get into that meeting,” Ben declared.

He didn’t care he was still wearing his favorite worn in gray sweater and flannel pajama pants. Presentation wasn’t of the most importance when the future of his family was on the line.

A stern hand stopped him from barreling out the door.

“Your Highness,” Kenobi said patiently, staring up at Ben with gentleness the young man associated with the bodyguard. “While I do appreciate your concern and… _enthusiasm_ for this matter, you cannot barge in unannounced or uninvited to the meeting.”

“Then what do you suggest I do?”

Kenobi’s lips twitched into a smirk.

 

* * *

 

“This is fucking awesome,” Ben mumbled as Kenobi led him up the hidden staircase, only a few lamps lighting their path. “Like some Scooby-Doo level shit.”

Ahead of him, Kenobi chuckled fondly. “Your grandfather said something similar when he first discovered the staircase.”

Ben felt a hesitant smile form on his lips. While knowing the older man for years, Ben often forgot he had not always been Head of Security or his grandmother’s personal bodyguard. In his younger years he’d been army buddies with Ben’s grandfather, Anakin, in the Naboo Guard. Oddly, it was nice to hear someone recall a fond memory of Anakin; not many did.

With more steps, Ben was forced to hunch down as the ceiling increasingly became lower. The hidden staircase must have been maintained by someone; electricity worked well enough, not to mention decent heating and ventilation. Cold stonewalls spoke of the age, the staircase possibly built during the palaces rebuild over a century ago.

Kenobi then made a sharp right, Ben a few steps behind. They found themselves on a landing with a simple Victorian armchair and loveseat. Two portraits lined the opposite walls, one of Queen Yrma the Gentle and the other Queen Apailana the Young.

“If you recall Nabooian history, Queen Yrma and her husband, King Antoni had their daughter later in their life. Sadly the queen passed during child birth, leaving the King to raise their daughter as long as they could, his heart breaking over time.”

Kenobi moved carefully through the old room, nodding to the portrait of Queen Yrma before moving to the next one.

“Queen Apailana was their daughter—one of the youngest Queens of Naboo,” Ben said, his eyes trained on the aged painting. His grandmother looked up to the young Queen, the girl ascending to the throne at the tender age of twelve. She eventually married one of her younger advisors when she came of age, but ruled by her own right.

“It is rumored she wanted this staircase designed when her father ordered for the palace to be remodeled a few years before his death. She did not trust her council, and rightly so. They were planning a coup.” Ben frowned aware of the dark spot in history. Kenobi then lifted Queen Apailana’s portrait from the wall, revealing a small, rectangular peep hole and old fashioned speaker. “Fortunately she knew by mere days due to this room.”

Standing beside Kenobi, Ben crouched a bit and peeped into the hole. There he could see the parliament council sitting into their raked desks, adorning their suits and pins. On the center floor stood Padme, regal as ever.

Leaning back, Ben glanced down at Kenobi. “You know that was an extremely dramatic way to show me a peep hole.”

Raising an eyebrow, Kenobi dusted his lapels. “It is all about presentation, Prince Ben. That’s how you persuade.”

A rumble of voice sounded from the room, the two men falling silent as they focused on the meetings proceedings.

“Your Majesty, Prince Ben simply causes a great stir of concern amongst us here on the parliament.” General Snoke’s slick voice filled the court room, everyone watching him with rapt attention.

Ben openly glowered at the man; he’d been a pain for his grandmother since elected into his chair. General Snoke was bag of human flesh than man, but knew how to command both his subordinates and an army. He preferred quick and maliciously tactical means of politics, his policies and proposals defying the Queen’s. Luckily, he rarely received approval from the rest of the parliamentary council, most siding with their ruler. Needless to say, Padme had never been fond of the man.

“And how does that apply to Prince Benjamin? He is the Crown Prince, next in line. We have always gone with the next eligible heir” Padme argued in calm ferocity, chin held high. “The next in line is my grandson.”

From above in the hidden viewing room, Ben cursed quietly. The old stuffy men on the parliament council seemed to be siding with Snoke for once in their lives. A horrible decision, really. Their pitiful gazes lingered on their queen as though begging her to not take this decision personally. After all, many of the members were their by the Queen’s endorsement.

“In a recent polling, roughly seventy-five percent of the Naboo population disapproves of Prince Ben becoming King—”

“Shut up!” Padme gasped indignantly.

Ben jumped at the outcry, nearly smacking his head on the low ceiling. Beside him, Kenobi not so subtly rolled his eyes.

“Grandma, no.” Ben muttered, as the parliament stared at their queen in astonishment.

“I beg your pardon?” General Snoke said, barely restraining the growl in his voice.

Padme stammered for moment while usually poised and collected, she was quickly losing her cool around these men.

“The public will learn to like him, as they have done for every ruler,” she reminded them diplomatically, “As they did for myself.”

“You—Your Majesty—were an underdog,” Snoke remarked with little reverence. Padme’s jaw twitched at the snide compliment. “Young girl forced to take the throne when no other heir could be found…a pull on the heartstring story.”

A few murmur of agreements echoed through out the room. Despite their distance, Ben could feel his grandmother’s steadily boiling wrath.

“Crowned Prince Benjamin however,” Snoke tutted, shaking his head helplessly. “He is a _foreigner_.”

 “Of Naberrie blood—” Chewbacca attempted to defend, his thick accent gargling the words.

Snoke ignored him.

“A foreigner, declared to rule a country he hardly knows.”

“Ben has visited Naboo for years since his sixteenth birthday. He has his own apartments, he has met with the people.” Padme explained clearly, her eyes scanning the room for a friendly face. “He is a man of the people. He grew up as a commoner as my daughter, _beloved_ Crowned Princess Leia of Naboo would have wanted.” A hushed silence fell over the court room at the mention of his mother. Ben inhaled deeply, feeling more so sorry for his grandmother than his own loss. “Prince Benjamin will ultimately have the people’s best interest at heart.”

An odd pinch panged in Ben’s chest at his grandmother’s words. Logically he hoped to be the embodiment of the grandson she painted for them—honorable, loyal, understanding. However, deep down he felt as though a fraud. The longer he listened to the parliament’s concerns, the more he began to understand their reservations.

“Then tell us why he has yet to take the throne?” Snoke asked simply. “Has he not been of age for the last eleven years.”

Usually poise, Padme’s resolve was diminishing quickly. Under her breath, she released an exasperated sigh.

“Prince Benjamin went to school—higher education.” Secretary Bail Organa softly reminded the others. “The Queen granted him time to pursue his education.”

“In _art_ ,” Treasure Ackbar remarked distastefully. “Not a suitable field for a future king.”

“I second that,” Madam Mon Mothma said apologetically. The politician and strategizer usually agreed with the Queen’s policies, but clearly not this one. “While I do understand send the Crown Prince to university, I am lost on why he was allowed to pursue art. It is not becoming of a king.”

“Because Prince Ben’s passion is art,” Padme defended unrelentingly, pride for him shining in her voice. “As his grandmother I have a right to encourage him to pursue his passions.”

“Such an American sentiment,” Snoke sneered, earning a few hesitant glanced from the rest of the parliament. “Need me remind you, Your Majesty, you have a duties as a _queen_. In this case present a suitable heir for the throne.”

“Benjamin is suitable,” Padme declared, her stance unwavering. From above and to the other’s she was beginning to sound like a broken record, her stubborn protests falling upon ignorant ears. For a parliament who once sided with her in various matters though out her reign, there seemed to be a great divide. “He will take the throne. It is his inherent right—there has not been an instance in our history where an clearly eligible heir has been passed for another. We follow the traditions Naboo upholds.”

“Then why did he not take the throne once he graduated?” Ackbar asked in return, his question backed by the curious faces of the other politicians and diplomats. “He has been done with his schooling for some time.”

“Because there wasn’t a reason for Ben to take the throne when I was in perfectly good health.”

“Are you implying you are not in good health, Your Majesty?” Bail Organa’s concern etched deeply in his eyes, the one true soul in the room dedicated to the Queen.

A heavy silence fell around the parliament, waiting with baited breath for the Queen to speak.

Padme faltered before finding adequate words. “I am well enough.”

Swallowing tightly, Ben tried not to linger too long on the implication of her word. It was no secret Padme was past her prime, elderly. He knew it, she knew it, the parliament knew it. Acknowledging the matter meant facing the beginning of the inevitable.

Ben wasn’t too sure if he’d ever be ready for it.

“‘Well enough’?” Snoke echoed, displeased. “This further proves we should simply move on to the next heir.”

“Like Ben,” Padme reiterated sternly.

“Or Lady Rey,” Luke Skywalker interjected, speaking for the first time since Ben began listening into the meeting.

Ben’s heart picked up at the mention of her name.

Clearing his throat, Skywalker stood up to address the parliament and the Queen. “My charge grew up on the area. She knows the culture, the people, is of an heir line and is of age to take the throne—a perfect candidate.”

An uneasy air fell over the room, the diplomats contemplating Skywalker’s words.

Smartly, Padme remained silent as the group gathered began to speak.

“She only recently had her title reinstated,” Bail reminded the others. His attention locked on Skywalker obviously suspicious of the man. “Where did she come from again.”

“Found out of her existence when she was ten—she was living in an orphanage on Jakku,” Luke said, prepared for such questions. He glanced around the room before speaking once more. “Rey had no one and thought to be nobody in the village. Thankfully I was able to make her my charge and hired a tutor to teach her not only her basic education, but her heritage and history. She excels in every subject and adapts flawlessly. An _underdog_ if you will.”

Padme’s jaw tightened at the remark. “Then why did you want so long to bring her forward Prince Luke?” she asked her son tersely.

He then smirked. “Did not want to scare the girl—tell her she might possibly be the heir to Naboo? I am not cruel in giving false hope to a child.”

Mother and son regarded each other darkly before breaking eye contact. Suddenly Ben knew there must have been a reason for him never meeting his uncle. There was a rift between the Queen and abdicated Prince, one everyone knew where to steer clear of.

“I vote for the Palpatine girl,” Ackbar announced. “Let’s take a vote.”

“No,” Bail interrupted before Snoke followed Ackbar’s lead, no doubt pushing the man to do it first. “We cannot take a vote. We must give Benjamin a chance. He is the rightful heir. We mustn’t forget that,” he stressed sharing a brief nod with both Padme and Mon Mothma. “For the Queen’s case, what will make Crown Prince Benjamin credible in the eyes of the people?”

“Stability,” Mon Mothma suggested, several diplomats and politicians nodding in approval. “Benjamin has seemed flighty, as though he is never quite here to stay. He needs to demonstrate _stability_.”

Padme pressed her lips together, her entire body weeping dread as she said her next words. “Are you suggesting marriage?”

“Precisely,” Mon Mothma said, capturing the room’s attention.

Ben’s stomach dropped.

“If you can have Crown Prince Benjamin married by the New Year, I believe we can approve him to be the next Crown King of Naboo,” Chewbacca spoke before Snoke could get in a word. “ All in favor of approving Crown Prince Benjamin leu of marriage by January 1st 2019, say I?”

Several chorus of ‘I’s filled the room before Ben could fully process what transpire. From above, he noticed his grandmother eerily still through the proceedings.

“And we must follow through with our second in line,” Snoke brought up. “Lady Rey shall have the thrown if Prince Benjamin does not follow through.”

“He will,” Bail Organa replied making sharp eye contact with Snoke. “I’d be wise to not under estimate someone with survivor and noble blood running through their veins.”

 

* * *

 

**_October 1 st 2005_ **

 

“This,” Lando waved to Ben’s entire head, “this all needs to go.”

The man before Ben tutted, waving his cape (yes, the man literally wore a cape _unironically_ ) over his should in fantastical fashion. His color coordinated outfit of blues and purples burned into Ben’s retinas.

“To go?” Ben uttered with mild horror. He sunk lower into the salon chair as Lando peered at his every inch.

The famed stylist huffed looking away to his assistant, Ellie. A tall, slender woman with a sharp yet blunt humor to her. She took an immediate liking to Ben when she noticed he was reading _Common Sense_ by Thomas Paine, rambling on about the prolific book before Lando finally made his grand entrance. He and the Queen were discussing something ‘important’. Ellie claimed it was about hairstyles for the Naboo Independence Day Ball, but Ben heard the name ‘Leia’ mentioned. Clearly his mother was the topic and no one want him to know. Apparently this Lando Calrissian knew Leia when she was simply a girl in the states going to university.

Just because his mother was fond of this guy didn’t mean Ben had to be.

“Yes, I cannot bare to look at all this hair—” He squinted at him “—where did you get that head of hair, boy? Neither Han or Leia had such dark, thick locks. It’ll be a wonder to tame.”

“Genetics,” the young prince muttered ignoring the mention of his parents.

Lando tsked, bringing a hairbrush through Ben’s hair.

Or at least he attempted to, the bristles getting stuck about halfway through a stroke. The stylist laughed it off, however Ben could hear the panic in his voice. With one, two, and three tugs the hairbrush still would not release from the hair.

Lando grasped the handle tightly, Ben wincing, when a distinct and sharp _CRACK_ echoed in the room.

“You—you broke my hairbrush,” Lando said in astonishment, unsure of how to proceed.

Mortified, Ben sunk lower.

A few feet away, Amilyn frowned in sympathy for him. She’d probably sneak him some cookies on his tea plate when Padme wasn’t looking. His grandmother’s assistant did random nice gestures of such, almost pitying him at the rather rapid turn of events.

Beside him, Ellie quickly handed over a pair of scissors. Snips were heard before the hairbrush was out of the dark locks. Lando then cut more hair to even it out, though by the twist of displeasure on his lips, Ben knew they were nowhere near done.

Once depositing the hairbrush in the trashcan, Lando walked back behind Ben’s chair and plucked the glasses right off his face.

“I need my glasses,” he grumbled at his lack of clear vision.

“We all need glasses these days, but that is why contact were invented,” Lando declared, before turning to Amilyn with a charming smile, “See it that someone gets this boy contacts, so we can see his Naberrie eyes.”

She nodded once, marking the note down in her Blackberry.

Ben rolled his eyes, annoyed he was being forced out of his preferred vision. “I own them I just don’t like—”

_SNAP!_

Ben broke into a horrified gasp, a meek almost sob escaping his throat. “You broke my glasses!”

“You broke my hairbrush,” Lando said simply. Little argument could be made after that statement.

Without looking away from the mirror, he handed the broken glasses to his assistant and went back to work.

 

* * *

 

“Now—” Lando began, pacing in front his meager audience.

 Inwardly, Padme looked to the heavens—she only hired Lando because he was the best and would do anything for the Naberrie family. More importantly he’d do anything for Leia, including helping stylize her son. Beside these facts, Padme was never too fond of the man’s theatrics but sat through them for the sake of her daughter.

“Before we had a lost boy,” Ellie held out one photo of Ben squinting without his glasses on. Lando then waved her to switch to the next one, “And a rumbled artist.” She held up another photo of Ben with his glasses on and his shoulder length hair completely down. He appeared visibly upset, lips pouting and eyebrows scrunched together. “But I have now found the prince underneath it all!”

He rushed over to the salon chair and spun it around in a flourish.

Sitting with an unreadable expression was Ben, only without his glasses and his haircut.

His long dark hair was now cut just under his chin, in nice waves. Princely…almost reminded Padme of Anakin’s hair. Lando must have used it as a reference.

Glasses were gone and Ben seemed more approachable in that sense, less closed off. Good improvements…

But he was clearly unhappy by the development.

Lando then began to fuss over him once more, proud of his work despite Ben’s clear upset. “Remember to diffuse and twist the hair every morning—”

“I know, you told me at least ten times,” the teen said tiredly, sitting up from the chair. He shuffled over to where his backpack laid, slinging it over his shoulder. “Thanks for the ‘Prince Make-Over’, but I have to go study for History.” Turning on his heel, he looked over to Amilyn, “Can you let me know when my dad gets here?”

“Of course,” she assured him.

With a huff, the boy trudged to the lounge.

“He has such a sad disposition,” Ellie remarked once Ben was out of an earshot. “I pity the little fellow.”

“It’s a lot of change at once,” Kenobi defended lightly from over her shoulder.

Padme nodded, before smiling brightly to her guests. “Well, thank you for your work. He looks very cleaned up and that is all I can ask.”

She’d need to figure out how to connect with Ben better. He seemed to disapprove nearly every single decision she made; were teenagers these days this downtrodden?

Briefly she remember Kenobi suggesting she get to know him, and his interests. His art…maybe there was something there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much Rey, but next chapter she will definitely be there!
> 
> Let me know what you think! Comments and kudos are always appreciated; love discussing the fic with my readers :D
> 
> follow me on twitter @intpslytherin97

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I am trying to combine both The Princess Diaries and The Princess Diaries: Royal Engagement into one fic because I have zero chill and really wanted Ben to have some bonding moments with Padme!
> 
> No worries, we will meet Rey in the next chapter! Her backstory is different, as I did say this is inspired by the films ;)
> 
> Let me know what you think! Comments and kudos are always appreciated; I love discussing the fic with readers!


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